


The Leather Jacket

by Larxicana



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Embarrassment, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Male Pronouns for Oz, Oz is Shy, Scott is Scott, Sharing Clothes, Standard Damien Swearing, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larxicana/pseuds/Larxicana
Summary: Oz hesitated for a moment, then glanced back at the door to make sure no one was coming, then reached a hand out to brush his fingertips over the leather. He couldn’t help it! This was Damien’s jacket! There was no way in hell (literally and figuratively) he would ever get to touch it. Besides, no one was here. A little touch wouldn’t hurt...~~In which Oz just can't help but try on Damien's jacket. Man, it'd be pretty embarrassing if Damien saw him, huh?





	The Leather Jacket

Gym was the _worst._ All that running, jumping, and trying not to die on some crazy obstacle course coach put together was just down right _exhausting_. Oz didn’t have a real body like the other kids, but he still felt draining from having to force his form to do some of those crazy things. All he wanted was to just sink into a pool of hot water and let go, to not have to worry about holding himself together for a few moments.

Thankfully, he managed to slip away from the rest of the class and scurry to the locker room. It was blissfully cool and quiet there, allowing the horror a moment to find himself again. His mind was still racing from having to out run that were-lion. (Who even knew those things existed?!) Pushing off the door, Oz strolled towards the showers were he could soak for a minute or two before the other kids came in. He didn’t have to wash like the others, since he was really just a solid shadow, but the feeling was nice.

He lifted his hands to rub his face, but when he lowered them, he paused. Sitting tossed over a bench was Damien’s jacket, the brown one with the gray hood. Honestly, it was Oz’s favorite out of the variety that he wore. He thought the brown looked good on him, almost rustic. Granted, he always looked good, no matter what he wore, but he thought the whole “leather jacket and jeans” paired with his cool attitude was just down right sexy and should be illegal. (Maybe it was, who knew. Not like that would stop Damien.)

Oz hesitated for a moment, then glanced back at the door to make sure no one was coming, then reached a hand out to brush his fingertips over the leather. He couldn’t help it! This was _Damien’s_ jacket! There was no way in hell (literally and figuratively) he would ever get to touch it. Besides, no one was here. A little touch wouldn’t hurt. Oz hesitated once more before grabbing it by the shoulders to hold up and get a better look. It was well worn, to the point where the leather was soft and the hoodie underneath had little fuzz balls gathering against its surface. He hooked his arm under it and held it to his chest so he could pick off a few of the fuzzes, but with it so close, its scent wafted up to caress his senses, causing him to close his eyes. He couldn’t help but indulge himself when he pulled it up to his face so he could bury it into the fabric, surround his senses with the smell. It was a mix of ash and burning wood, with a hint of gasoline (which honestly didn’t surprise him), but also had a strong, sharp note of cologne that made Oz’s form buzz. He hummed and nuzzled his face into it deeper, determined to commit the smell to memory.

Just then he felt the surface on his shoulder expand, causing him to pull his head back to look down at an entity that formed there. It waved its little hands at him, then made a “shrugging on” gesture, complete with smirk and tiny jacket that looked like Damien’s. Oz’s eyes widened, startling, “I-I couldn’t it put _on!”_ He hissed, glancing at the door then back. “It’s Damien’s jacket! What if he walks in and sees me in it?” The entity waved a dismissive hand at him. Soon another formed on his other shoulder, suggesting the same idea through gesture, then another. Oz’s brows frowned up as he glanced between then all, then eventually sighed. “Ok… just real quick.” The blobs waved their hands like they were cheering. Oz looked back at the jacket, holding it out in front of him, then carefully slipped it on over his gym shirt.

The garment was about two sizes too big for him and bunched around his wrists a bit, but it was incredibly warm, like the fires of hell were still simmering inside it. Its weight was incredibly comforting against his shoulders and back, grounding him and helping him to keep his form together. It reminded him of one of those weighted anxiety blankets. With it surrounding him like this, he found himself engulfed in the man’s scent, which was heavenly (figuratively, not literally). Oz held up his arm to look at the entities that formed there, giving him a thumbs up and little cheers. He smiled a little at them, “Well… it is nice, I have to admit…” he told them then grabbed the sides of the opening to pull it closer to his face, closing his eyes to enjoy the smell a little more. It was almost like cuddling up with the real thing! Maybe if he was lucky, he could mimic it later for his own selfish reasons. He knew that was creepy, but honestly, he would probably never get to the cuddle the real thing. They had hung out a few times, even gone and got ice cream together, but Damien had never made a sort of gesture that would suggest he was interested in more than just friendship. It made Oz sigh, but he tried not to think of that right now. Instead, he was going to enjoy every moment of this right here.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Oz’s head shut up as his eyes opened wide, letting out a startled sound before his form gave out and he collapsed to the floor in a splash of black goo. The jacket crumbled over top of him a bit, giving him a place to hide his eyes. _No no no no no please no!_ He thought, pulling himself together enough to be as small as possible, hiding completely under the garment. However, he felt the vibration of footsteps coming towards him, then suddenly the jacket was being lifted away to reveal the very last person he wanted to see right now. Damien was glaring down at him, teeth bared and eyebrows pinched together. Oz’s puddle-like form rippled in terror before he quickly dove under the lockers, hiding in the shadows of the narrow space that he was sure would become his home because there was no way he could ever face the world now.

“What the-?!” Oz heard then watched the jacket fall to the ground. Soon knees and hands appeared on the floor, then Damien’s face as he peered under the lockers.

The horror’s form wouldn’t stop rippling as he scooted as far back as he could. He felt so much embarrassment and shame fill his being that he whimpered. If he was still put together, he knew his eyes would be aching as ghostly tears rolled down his face. He shouldn’t have listened to the others! He shouldn’t have even _touched_ the damn thing! He should have just kept walking and none of this would have happened and he might still have a chance at being at least friends with the other demon, but now all of that was thrown out the window!

“Oz- wait are you _crying?”_ Damien asked, making a face as he rose an eyebrow. The horror made a panicked sound and quickly darted away, flying through the shadows under the lockers. “Hey- wait!” He heard sneakers squeak against the tile floor, chasing after him. When he got to the edge of the lockers, he dove out into the light for only a moment so he could duck under a set filing cabinets. When something collided with it, Oz freaked and quickly followed the shadows from the cabinets, along the floor, until he could hide under another set of lockers. “Oz- ugh! Damn it!” A massive force hit the lockers, causing Oz to whimper and squish himself against the wall. Then suddenly the lockers were being lifted away. The horror watched as Damien heaved them up off the ground, then chucked them behind him with a shout. They slammed into the other lockers, causing a domino effect.

Now that he was out in the open with nowhere else to go, Oz began to panic, “I’m sorry!” He shouted, “I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Damien turned back to him, breathing a little heavier from the exertion, and held up his hands. “Shut up!” He shouted, sounding winded, “I’m not gonna hurt you! Fucking hell!” That didn’t make Oz feel any better, but he ceased his whimpers. Damien sighed and put his hands on his hips as he tried to calm his breathing, looking down at the other, then waved at him, “You just… Fuck, how did you… you just... melted or some shit!” The horror was too terrified to reply. Damien watched him for a moment longer then ran a hand up through his hair. “Ugh, right. Ok. Can you like- I don’t know, put yourself back together again or something? I feel like I’m talking to a puddle.” Oz hesitated for a long moment before he slowly gathered himself, rising off the floor and taking shape. When he was whole once more, he kept his eyes cast to the floor, one arm wrapped around himself while his free hand wiped at his face to rid of any embarrassed tears. “Ah shit, you are crying.” Oz turned his head away as he pressed the space below his nose into his hand. He could feel his legs ripple and liquefy, causing him to slowly grow shorter. “Shit! No, come on! Don’t melt again! Get it together, will ya?” With great effort, he pulled himself together again, but Damien’s shouting certainly wasn’t making it easier. He really just wanted to be as small as possible or maybe even disappear.

It was silent in the locker room for a moment, before he heard Damien sigh, then walk away. Oz closed his eyes, convinced the man was leaving because he didn’t want to deal with him, this weirdo who was caught wearing his jacket without permission. He heard the rustling of fabric, the sound of it being hit, then footsteps coming closer. He felt himself tense, expecting a blow or something, but instead, he felt something drape over his shoulders and surround him in warmth. Oz jumped, but felt himself solidify under the weight. When he opened his eyes, he discovered Damien’s jacket was over his shoulders again. Confused and surprised, he looked up at the demon prince. “Ugh finally.” Damien had his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. “I thought you were gonna fall apart again. Fucking hell, you’re such a drama queen. You need to chill the fuck out for like two minutes, ok?”

Oz stared up at him, but hesitantly nodded, gripping one of the flaps of the jacket. He felt safe, comfortable, and secure with it over his shoulders, just like before. Its weight grounded him and kept him from feeling like he could fly away, and while a moment ago that would have terrified him, right now it felt… good.

Damien sighed, “Alright… First thing’s first, I don’t care that you were wearing my jacket.”

Oz’s eyes widened at this, “B-but you sounded so angry!”

“Dude, I _always_ sound angry! It’s like my thing! I use fuck like a comma!” Well… Damien had him there. He usually _did_ sound angry a lot, and swore a lot. “Then you ran away before I could say anything else! Melted into a puddle or some shit!” Damien pointed at him, “Which by the way, is dope as fuck. I had no idea you could do something like that! I mean, I knew you could change your shape to mimic fears and shit, but to just completely liquefy like that? So rad.”

Normally, Oz would be over the moon about a compliment like that, but he was still confused as to why he wasn’t being killed and why he had been given the jacket back. “I-I don’t understand…” he started shyly, “You’re… not mad that I was wearing your jacket?”

Damien made a face, “No dude, I told you. I don’t care. Hell, I _just_ gave it back to you. If it pissed me off, I’d beat the shit out of you or something.” He then glanced away, crossing his arms. Oz could have sworn he saw a hint of pink come to his cheeks, but that couldn’t be right. “Listen, we’ve been hanging out for a while now and I think that… well… I mean, everyone in this school is pretty much a hundred percent douche bag, except for like six people, and even those people piss me off sometimes.” He glanced back at Oz, but the horror still looked confused. Frustrated, Damien let out a shout that made Oz jump. “Gah! Why is this so hard?! Ok look, I think you’re pretty rad, ok? And if you wear my jacket and other people see, then they’ll probably think we’re dating or something, and I… don’t… really mind that.”

Oz’s eyes widened when he heard that, all the pieces finally making sense. “You-! I mean… Are you… Are you asking me _out?_ Like… more than friends stuff?”

“Yeah, got a problem with that?” Damien snapped, looking tense and a bit embarrassed.

Oz just stared at him. If he had a mouth, he was sure it would be on the floor right now. He could _not_ believe what he was hearing right now! Was this a dream? A cruel nightmare? No that was a silly question. He didn’t get dreams or nightmares, he _was_ a nightmare, but his brain stopped processing logical thought since he walked into the locker room. He stood there frozen, completely in shock, until he felt his shoulders shift, startling him back into motion. He looked down to see a few entities form to wave their little hands in the air like they were cheering. A few even conjured flags and foam fingers. Mortified, Oz quickly slapped his hands over them to try and hide them, but they just kept appearing.

He heard Damien chuckle, “Sooo… I take that a no, then?” Oz looked back up to see he had a shit eating grin on his face that made all of this so much worse. He slapped his hands over his face to hide any sort of color that might have shown up, because he definitely felt warm in the cheeks. There was more chuckling, then footsteps, then a pressure on his side. He opened his hands a little to peak down and saw Damien’s hand on his waist, which caused his shoulders to ripple with nerves and excitement, regardless of the jacket across them. Then the demon slipped his arm around him and yanked him forward, causing Oz to yelp in surprise, feeling his surface buzz everywhere they touched. Then a hand grabbed one of his wrists and pulled it back, forcing Oz to glance up and find Damien’s face so much closer than he ever thought it would be, with that smirk across his lips. He made a little startled and shy sound before his form suddenly gave out on him and he collapsed once more into a puddle on the floor, jacket crumpling over top of him. There was silence for a moment, before a laugh. “Dude,” Oz peered up at him when Damien knelt down and lifted the jacket to look at him, “you gotta stop doing that. How am I supposed to do anything with you if you keep melting?”

Oz glanced away shyly, then back. “S-sorry… I just… I never thought you’d like someone like me…”

“Dude, what are you talking about?! You’re so fucking rad!” Damien’s face split into a wicked grin, “You ripped off half of the school that one time the Fuckpack decided your buddy Brian would make a great chew toy because he limbs popped off! You did more damage in two seconds than I’ve done in an hour! That was so fucking metal! Plus the fact that you stood up for your friend like that was pretty rad too. Now come on! Pull yourself together, will ya? I cannot have a puddle boyfriend. I’ve tried that once and it so didn’t work out. He was never there for me.” He paused, glancing away, “Come to think of it, I think I might have dumped the cup he lived in over so I could use it for shots.” Oz couldn’t help but chuckle a little at this, earning a grin. “Now come on, stand up already!”

Damien straightened, taking the jacket with him, and took a step back to give him some space. Oz pulled himself together a little easier this time, feeling a lot more comfortable about everything now. He even managed a smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “That’s better.” Damien tossed his jacket over his shoulders again and pulled him closer by the collar. “Now, I guess I should do this right, huh? Like with a date and shit before I kiss you? What do you wanna do?”

“Um…” the horror fiddled with his hands in the space between them, “how about… dinner and a movie? And we could even light some stuff on fire, if you want. L-like our bill at the restaurant and our ticket stubs at the movie theatre.”

Damien gave a wicked grin, showing fang, “Fuck yeah! And the table and chairs at the restaurant and the seats at the movies!”

Well, that wasn’t _exactly_ what Oz had in mind, but he was pretty sure Damien wouldn’t burn everything down until they had actually eaten and watched whatever movie they decided to see, so all seemed well. “And um… one more thing…”

Damien’s grin faded into something a little more quizzical, “Hm?”

Oz put a hand over the space just under his nose for a moment, causing his form to shift ever so slightly. When he took it away, he revealed a pair of lips that turned shyly up into a little smile. “You don’t ah… have to wait to kiss me, if you don’t want to…”

The demon’s eyes widened in surprise at this, but quickly smirked instead. “Shit, you should have said something in the first place.” He told him as he leaned in closer, tone lowering to something a little more salutary. Oz felt giddy energy run through him, rippling the surface around his chest, and closed his eyes. If he had to breathe, he would be holding his breath in anticipating of kissing the guy he liked since the first time he saw him.

“Damien!”

Oz jumped as his eyes snapped open and towards the door, gripping the demon’s shirt in surprise. Scott walked in, panting happily, but paused at the status of the locker room. “Whoa, what happened in here?”

“Ugh! Scott!” Damien snapped as he glared over at him.

The werewolf turned to look at him, but gasped, “Damien! There… there are _two of you?!”_

_“What?”_

Scott hurried over, causing Oz to try and hide under the jacket, feeling so embarrassed that he had been caught in such a situation. “There are two of you! You, and this brown thing! It smells just like you, so there’s gotta be two of you!”

Damien stared at him like he grew a second head, “What- no! Scott-!”

“Hello second Damien! Are you related to the first Damien?” Scott asked Oz happily, but then looked confused, “Wait, or are _you_ the first Damien and _he’s_ the second? Oh my god! How am I going to tell you apart?! You smell exactly the same!”

“Scott!!” The “real” Damien barked, “There is no second Damien! It’s just Oz wearing my jacket! Use your damn eyes, not your nose!”

Scott stood there for a long moment, staring down at the horror as he thought really hard, which was almost painful to watch, but then he gasped. “Oh, Oz! It’s you! You’re just wearing Damien’s jacket! That’s why you smell like him!” He started to laugh, causing the demon to groan and slap a hand over his face. “Wait,” Scott tilted his head, “you’re wearing Damien’s jacket… does that mean…” He gasped in delight, his smile returning, “Oh my god! Are you guys dating now?! That’s so awesome!” He punched Damien in the shoulder, earning a squawk of pain. “Congrats bro! You finally got the courage to ask him! See, I told you everything would work out! Oz, he’s been freaking out for weeks now, trying to figure out how to ask you out.”

_“SCOTT SHUT UP NO I HAVEN’T!!”_

“Yes you have! Just the other day you torched his locker to try and get his attention.”

Oz peered up at Damien, who was definitely pink faced, _“That’s_ what that was about?”

“No!” The prince barked, “I burn shit because I like burning shit! Watch!” He let go of the younger one to turn and whip out a can of gasoline and a box of matches. Oz wondered where those things came from for a moment, but looked up at Scott when he nudged him. He found him grinning ear to ear and offering out a fist. The horror smiled back and tapped his fist against his as the locker room was engulfed in flames.


End file.
